


Conflict of Interest

by Saraste



Series: March Madness [14]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, First Kiss, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 03:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: Margaery is Sansa's TA.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have only a vague idea how the US college system works! Sorry for any inconsistencies. (My only exposure to the US college system is through popular media...)

Sansa meets Margaery on the first day of college, Margaery is the TA for Medieval History 101, and Sansa acts dumb just to stay after class to ask her something inconsequential, just to talk to her.

 

Margaery’s bright eyes tells Sansa that she isn’t fooling anyone, except maybe herself. Yet Margaery laughs, briefly touches Sansa’s arm, smiles at her with her everything.

 

When Sansa does nothing but stare at Margaery during every class, she actually  _ does _ have an actual reason to ask Margaery for help.

 

“Your really need to concentrate,” Margaery tells Sansa, when they’re sitting at the library, Sansa angsting over her midterm, which is in one week.

 

Sansa stares at her. “How can I when ---”

 

Margaery waggles her eyebrows, flips the pages of her big academic history text book, making the act look like flirting because Sansa cannot not look at her hands. 

 

“Sansa.”

 

Sansa looks up, at Margaery’s face, at her smiling eyes and her crooked smiling mouth, her kissable pretty lips. Margaery is so pretty. So smart. And Sansa is so gone on her.

 

“Go out with me,” Sansa blurts, before she can stop herself.

 

Margaery sighs. But she’s smiling. “I’m your TA.”

 

“Not my professor.”

 

“Not your professor. But I’ll be grading your midterm. Conflict of interest.” 

 

“Margaery.”

 

“When I’m not your TA anymore.”

 

They look at each other across the table, the accoutrements of academia scattered on the table between them, the hush of the library a murmur in the background. Looking at Margaery, Sansa  _ knows _ that Margaery feels like she does, that it isn’t just Sansa who wants, who dreams, who dares hope. Wants to touch, be allowed, allowed to indulge and explore.

 

“Deal,” Sansa says.

 

*

 

Margaery kisses Sansa in front of the whole class when the course is over, Sansa’s A-marked test crumpling in her hand, the rest of the class cheering.


End file.
